


The New Taylor

by marmolady



Series: Beyond Vaanu: Endless Ending [3]
Category: Endless Summer (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:01:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26371615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marmolady/pseuds/marmolady
Summary: Saving the world takes a lot out of a person. For Taylor, growing into her new self beyond La Huerta can only happen as fast as her exhausted body will allow her....
Relationships: Estela Montoya/Main Character (Endless Summer)
Series: Beyond Vaanu: Endless Ending [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1906357
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

The light of the rising sun filtered through the thin curtains of Estela’s childhood bedroom, gently rousing Taylor from her slumber. She grumbled softly, nuzzling deeper into the pillow, and snuggling into her wife’s chest and belly. Somehow, she could just never get enough sleep. It was as if her body’s batteries were still relearning the art of recharging, some three?-- four now, weeks after Vaanu’s energy departed her. In exchange for looking forward to a lifetime of waking up in Estela’s arms, a little tiredness was a small price to pay.Some days, though, it felt like an insurmountable hurdle.

Full lips brushed Taylor’s cheek and jaw, whispers of kisses. How could she not smile? Her eyes opened to that beautiful, scarred face. “Mm… morning, babe.”

Estela beamed. It was hard not to when she had her arms around a miracle. Back home with her _tio,_ the promise of a happy future was tangible, a hope that she could just about believe in.

“Good morning, _hermosa_.” She nibbled the lobe of Taylor’s ear. “Did you sleep better?”

Taylor yawned noisily, and took her time stretching out her body, enjoying the press of her back against her lover.

“Better, yeah.”

Nightmares had been an ongoing problem for Taylor for about as long as she could remember. Every now and then she’d have stretches where she couldn’t even seem to close her eyes without being bombarded. Images of her friends’ deaths… dying in a thousand different ways. The worst, though, the worst by far, was a memory of her own; Estela’s eyes going dull as she took a last, rattling breath, Taylor cradling her in blood-soaked arms. It haunted her in sleep; the feel of blood on her hands so horrifyingly real, usually waking her with a violent shiver up her spine.

“Mmmm…” she turned to press a kiss to Estela’s lips. “I’ll take every good night of sleep I can get. You sleep okay?”

Estela’s face was soft with affection. Her own nights’ sleep had been badly impacted by the traumatic period of Taylor’s recovery from Vaanu’s leaving her. After seeing the love of her life stop breathing again and again… letting go of the fear wasn’t something that came easy, and it made for restless nights.

“I think I made it the whole night. We might just be through the worst of it. I guess you’re not gonna die on me in the middle of the night after all.”

“Like I keep saying; you are stuck with me, Estela Montoya. No way you’re shaking me now.”

With a happy squirm, Estela squeezed Taylor from behind. “Nope-- you’re all mine.” She placed a big smooch on her wife’s rosy cheek. “Come on; I can smell breakfast cooking!”

Several weeks in, San Trobida remained a brand new world for Taylor. It was to some relief when it quickly became apparent that she didn’t especially stand out and draw attention. She slowly got to grips with her place in a world beyond La Huerta, and no one seemed to pay her much notice. Estela had told her, with a laugh, that San Trobidans were not an especially chatty people, and that this shouldn’t come as a surprise. One might expect a polite smile of greeting, but the general population were about as likely to strike up small talk as Estela was-- which was to say, not very.

Initially, Estela had been stuck to Taylor as if by glue, letting her presence be a safety net as her wife grappled with her identity in what was an often overwhelming environment. And it hadn’t just been for Taylor’s benefit. Reunited with her uncle in a post-war San Trobida, her beloved partner by her side, it seemed inevitable to Estela that the other shoe had to drop at _some point._ Life wasn’t this easy. It just wasn’t. Every other time she’d believed that the struggle was over, she’d been hit with another wallop to the gut. Trusting in ‘happily ever after’ wasn’t something she could turn on like a switch.

But everything hadn’t gone crashing down in flames. Nicolas had welcomed Taylor-- and Jake, for that matter-- enthusiastically into the family. Even for the short years she’d been away, Estela found a San Trobida flourishing without the choke-hold of oppression that she’d always expected to be there. Jake had hit the ground running, having already interviewed for positions with two local airlines to charter tourists-- the thought of _tourists_ coming to San Trobida was staggering in itself. Estela had offered her services to do odd jobs for old acquaintances; something she’d done many years before, when her mother had still been around to prevent her from getting involved in the war. The vast majority of her uncle’s friends had been connected to the rebellion in some way or another, and standoffish as most were, they welcomed her earnest insistence on being useful. Everything around her spoke of recovery, and Estela found herself beginning to believe that she and Taylor were on their way too.

Taylor often accompanied her wife on these errands, taking every opportunity to soak up the essence of San Trobidan life, to make it a part of herself. She was met predominantly with wary looks and grunts, and soon worked out that it wasn’t worth taking such reactions to heart. Today, though, she was striking out on her own. If she was going to come into her own as a ‘new Taylor’, the fully-realised human being that even Vaanu themselves could not have imagined of her, she had to give herself a chance to grow.

“You have the bus timetables on your phone, right?” Estela asked, taking a moment to give her wife’s fingers a squeeze. “It’s still probably best if you don’t go into the city on your own, but you pretty much know your way to the closer towns anyway. And you can call me…”

“...at any time.” Taylor returned the squeeze. “Always.”

Estela blushed. “Yeah… that. Just, be careful. If you’re feeling tired, call. I can drop everything in a moment, but I need you to be safe.”

Whether Taylor’s batteries _ever_ properly recharged these days, was something debatable. Even the simplest activities would knock the stuffing out of her. Walks along the beach were kept short. Afternoon naps were now something of a fact of life. Sex was slow and gentle. It was damn near driving Taylor crazy, and all she could do was tell herself that it would get better, that her lack of energy was a tiny price for the miracle of her continued presence on earth.

She took Estela’s face in her hands and kissed her sweetly. “I’ll be careful, okay? I know my limits.”

The bus ride up into the hills east of Estela’s home was a scenic one, and a trip that Taylor had now taken a couple of times during her solo explorations, as well as once, of course, with Estela. Passing agricultural plantations-- cassava, banana and sugar cane, she’d been told-- the surrounding vegetation became denser as the road carried on to the next town. Taylor hopped off at the next stop; if she was feeling up to it, there wouldn’t be too much of a trek back down the hill to the bay off which the Montoya house stood. With that in mind, she kept her ambling around town to a slow pace, and coffee in hand, soon took to the walking trails through the surrounding forest.

Almost certainly as a result of feeling so at home in the wilderness of La Huerta, it was in nature that Taylor felt she was at her best-- it had always been on hikes through the jungle or along the coast that she could really get lost in thought and ponder the big questions. Now, though, her body just couldn’t seem to keep up with her mental needs. When she sat down upon the forest floor for a breather-- surely after not even a quarter of an hour of walking-- her legs were like jelly.

_Goddammit._

Frustrated, Taylor distracted herself by taking a picture of an odd flower. She’d been collecting snaps of just about anything in nature she came across that stood out as different to what she was used to on La Huerta. If Estela or Nicolas couldn’t identify it, she’d hit their old handbook of San Trobidan botany. It was a small hobby to keep her occupied; at least she could keep on learning even if she was usually too tired to do a lot physically. She’d also taken up knitting-- though she had a way to go before she’d really got the hang of it. Besides poring over books and keeping up a barrage of questions about life here, there was not a whole lot else for her to do. She’d had a couple of driving lessons, but like everything else, they had to be kept short. She’d usually go along with Estela when she was running errands, but if she wasn’t painfully aware of how weak and vulnerable she presently was, getting a good view of her wife’s vigour and strength did nothing to make her feel any better. Of course, there wasn’t a hint of judgement-- but Taylor was so often left feeling useless and unattractive. Estela had fallen for an energetic woman who had taken life by the horns, and right now, it felt like that woman didn’t exist.

She took her time to recover; sending a couple of pictures to Diego who’d been getting an almost blow-by-blow account of her new life in San Trobida, and doing a few easy stretches. Estela was convinced that working on core strength was the best way forward for Taylor’s rehabilitation; once her body was stronger, then they’d work on cardio and stamina.

Limbered up, Taylor walked back to the bus stop. Dearly as she’d wanted to make the trek home, something that just a couple of months ago would have been a piece of cake, she was not fool enough to think it might happen today. Getting off the bus a couple of stops before home was the compromise she’d have to live with for the time being. She plugged in her earphones and watched the world go by-- listening to a soundtrack she’d inherited as a mish-mash of her friends’ tastes. When she hopped off the bus, that beat kept her putting one foot in front of the other, a steady rhythm. From the footpath by the road up the hill, she could already see an easy route home; the sparkling sea providing a beautiful backdrop that she’d never have fully appreciated through a window. She could feel her body flagging with every step, but it was worth it.

_You got this, Taylor. All downhill from here._

As Taylor turned the last corner toward home, her legs shaking, a small figure skittered out across the road and towards the beach. A small sickly-looking dog. Strays were not uncommon near the towns and beaches; Estela had said there used to be many more around the place, that with the war over there was more scope for focus on animal welfare. The fact that this one looked like a strong gust of wind could finish it off spurred her.

_Well, I guess I can make a slight detour._

She hastily tucked away her earphones and crossed the street, whistling. Most of the dogs that showed up were seasoned beggars with no qualms about approaching humans. Chances were, this little one would come running. Huffing and puffing her way slowly to the beachside village, she found the dog trundling along the behind the now-closed bar. On a longer look, Taylor noticed that its forelegs were oddly bent, facing in opposite directions as it loped, and the scruffiness that had caught her eye was down to great patches of hair loss that accentuated a thin frame.

 _Poor little fella…._ She gave a low whistle and crouched. “ _Hey, l’il guy… uh, girl actually. Hey, l’il girl. You must be hungry….”_

The dog looked around, eyes wary, as Taylor wobbled precariously. It gave a small but gruff bark, and moved further away. Taylor huffed; if the animal didn’t clearly need a vet, she’d have left it be. After her walk down from the bus stop, her head was spinning and she wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Maybe… maybe she should just come back for the tiny dog later. Then, as Taylor made to get up, she stumbled and fell.

_Fuck._

Suddenly, it seemed pretty clear that the mangy little dog was not the one in most immediate physical peril. Taylor gave a weak yell and kicked out the dirt. To her alarm, her vision blurred horribly, and she went from ‘a little bit weak’ to ‘I could faint right here’ dizzy in frightening speed.

_Okay, head between your legs. Deep breaths… deep…._

The world swam. Taylor could just about make out the dog barking in the distance… then all went black.

* * *

Taylor woke slowly, her head aching. The room around her seemed to spin, and it took several long moments before she recognised it as Estela’s bedroom. Propped up at the head of the bed, she’d clearly been brought home by someone after…. _Crap, what happened?_

“There is water for you on the bedside table,” came the sharp voice of Nicolas Montoya.

“W-what happened? I fainted? I think I… fainted.”

“ _Thankfully_ you were found by someone who recognised you as a guest of mine. Now, sit up slowly and take small sips of water. Estelita will be home soon-- I would much prefer she is not coming home to her idiot wife looking like death warmed up.”

Her lips dry, Taylor swallowed, still trying to catch her brain up with whatever had just happened.She’d been chasing after a stray dog, and then…. _God, Estela was gonna freak._ She mumbled a ‘thank you’ for the water, for the apparent rescue, and tried to hold off from shuddering at the bitter disappointment in her uncle-in-law’s voice. He was pissed. A strong part of Taylor was indignant; she wasn’t a fool, but _this_ was new.

“ _Drink.”_

There was no arguing with that tone. Taylor took a sip, then another. She tried to think. She’d been out walking and… her body had just given out on her. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t known she was exhausted, but….

“It happened so fast. I was on my way home, and I was tired, and then I just… crashed. Where’s Estela--? Does she know I’m okay--?”

“I didn’t take you for a dumbass--”

Anger flared in Taylor’s gut. _That_ was not fair. “Hey-- I passed out. I’m not stupid, I just--”

“No? You are ill, wandering around defenseless… by your own choice, no? Knowing that your wife would drop everything to get you home when you are _clearly_ incapacitated. I give you some credit; I assume you know this is not the safest corner of the world? It seems like you are a _maldito_ _idiota_ to me!”

Taylor could feel her whole body trembling uncontrollably. “You can try, but you’re not gonna make me feel any worse than I already do. I made a bad call, and I’m paying for it. I don’t expect you to trust me; but I learned a fucking hard lesson today.”

Nicolas turned away, seething.

“If I thought it was a risk, I wouldn’t have done it. I would _never_ put Estela through that kind of worry. Not again.”

“Well, we are fortunate indeed it wasn’t she who found you collapsed in the dirt.” Nicolas’ eyes flashed as he looked back over his shoulder at Taylor. “Do you have any idea--”

A creaking signaled the front door swinging open. There was a pounding of frantic footsteps on hardwood floor and then….

“Taylor!”

Estela rushed in, falling to her knees beside the bed where Taylor was propped up.

“’Stel…” Taylor’s eyes welled as both relief and shame washed over her all at once. _I’m so sorry._

“ _¡Dios! Me asustaste hasta la muerte!_ What were you thinking? It’s okay, just… just let me look at you….”

The tone of panic and the tears rolling down Estela’s cheeks made Taylor’s heart sink down to her toes. This was the last thing she’d wanted.

Nicolas scowled. “Well, she’s in safe hands now. Estelita, I will be in the office if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Tio.” Estela did not turn as her uncle walked away; she had eyes only for Taylor. Tentatively, she climbed up onto the bed, settling down gently beside her wife.

“I really thought I had more stamina than tha--”

“Shh.” Estela put a finger to Taylor’s lips. “Let me check you over.”

Too exhausted to struggle, Taylor leaned back against the head of the bed, letting Estela inspect her for any signs of physical distress. She remained quiet, feeling the tension that hung between them, tension that shouldn’t be there.

Finally, Estela sighed, her dark eyes forlorn. “Looks like no harm done. You got lucky. But you can’t just push your luck like that. I can’t believe you’d just--”

“It was an honest mistake. Part of being human, or at least that’s what I’m told.”

“It was a _stupid_ mistake!”

It was as though an icy bucket of water had been dropped on Taylor’s head. Estela wasn’t just hurt, she was… angry?

“ _Hey!_ I have been lectured enough by your uncle, and I am not gonna take it from you. I know you’re scared, but this is new to me. I’m still working out my limits.”

Estela winced, immediately looking ashamed for snapping. She curled up her knees to her chest and stared straight ahead. For a long while, she sat that way, unmoving.

Taylor watched her wife with concern. Where _was_ she? Reliving the long nights in the Elyys’tel medical centre, a hair’s breadth from losing her partner forever? Or was she even further away; remembering the shattering impact of loss and fearing it touching again?

“Taylor,” Estela said hoarsely, “I can’t… I _won’t_ lose you.”

“No. You won’t.”

“So, don’t do that to me again.That was irresponsible and dumb, and that… that wasn’t fair.”

Hurt, Taylor tried hard not to pout. She wasn’t doing this on purpose; surely Estela knew that?

“We both know that you can’t look me in the eye and tell me that you’ve never overestimated what you were capable of. I made a mistake, okay?”

Estela’s nostrils flared. It was difficult to argue with that. Sometime in the future, when he’d cooled off, her _tio_ would no doubt laugh at the thought of her having a taste of all the worry she put him through. “Look, it might seem peaceful here, but beneath the surface, things are still broken. This is not a place that’s forgiving of stupid mistakes. If anything happened to you now, I-- I think it would kill me.”

“I know, ‘Stel. And I was being careful. I thought I was being careful _enough…_ ”

As she looked into Taylor’s face, Estela’s expression gradually softened. This sucked. It _really_ sucked. But that wasn’t down to Taylor. She was scared too. Gently, Estela reached out a hand and stroked her wife’s cheek. “You’re safe now. That’s what matters.”

Pressing a tender kiss to Estela’s wrist, Taylor felt herself relax. They were okay. Both kind of freaked out, but they were freaked out together.

“It’s like I don’t know my own body anymore. I feel absolutely useless; I can’t even trust myself, not after what just happened. It’s… kinda shit. ”

Estela huffed knowingly, and stroked Taylor’s hair. “It’s a lot shit. I’m sorry for taking it out on you. The last thing you need is to be stressing out ‘cause I’m being an asshole.”

“You? Never. You’ve had to be scared for so long; you’d have to be a robot if you kept it together all the time.”

“Hmm. Well, if I’ve gotta let off steam, that’s what a punching bag is for. I don’t wanna hurt you. Not ever.” Estela stroked her calloused fingers through Taylor’s hair. It helped to calm the both of them.“Did Tio really chew you out? If he thinks he can lecture you--”

Taylor laughed dryly. “Nothing I can’t handle. It… kinda sucks that he thinks I’m a complete idiot, but I’ll work on that.”

The hurt, though, could not be hidden.

“ _Cari_ _ń_ _a_ , you have nothing to prove. When Tio gets protective he can be… well, pretty damn unpleasant.” Estela sighed softly. “When I found out Mom was dead, it… it’s hard to explain how bad it was. I was unreachable. And _obviously_ it took a long, long time for me to even be close to the person I was before. I think when he found you like that, he must have had a moment when he thought it was happening again. It doesn’t excuse him being an ass to you, but you should know it’s not your fault. You’re not what’s wrong here. Jesus, you’re the _opposite_ of what’s wrong. Okay?”

Taylor found her wife’s hand and squeezed. “I know.” For a little while, she was quiet, just taking comfort in Estela… her being there, her touch. That love was a privilege. “Your _tio_ just… absolutely loves you to pieces. Like you’re his everything. For him to feel as though he’d lost you; it must have been something like torture.”

Her eyes closed, Estela breathed deeply against Taylor’s head, soothed by the scent of her hair. She’d let go of the guilt, but profound sadness lingered. The years since her mother’s death had been little but immeasurable pain for Nicolas, making even the triumphant rebellion hollow.

“I could never thank him enough. No matter what, he supported me, he had my back. Even when I was stuck on a mission that would take away the last person he loved.” She found herself enveloped in a hug, Taylor gently bringing her to her chest and cradling her head there. “I love him. More than I can say. More than I think I’ll ever work out how to show him. But I think… he knows. We’ve been through too much for him not to. I know I fought it; I didn’t wanna risk you even if it meant the world… but he gets to heal now. With me.” Estela looked up, pink dusting her cheeks as she looked into Taylor’s shimmering blue eyes. “You did that. And there’s nothing that anyone could ever give to compare to that. You’re my hero.”

Taylor found herself sniffing, faced with shining sincerity. She didn’t _feel_ like a hero, but for as long as Estela needed her to be that person, she’d try to live up to it. “You’re mine.”

“So, _mi querida,_ it’s gonna be okay.” Estela pulled herself up, so that Taylor could lean on her in turn. “How are you feeling?”

“Actually, not so bad. Like, I _desperately_ needed rest, but at least I seem to be able to bounce back pretty well.”

Estela sighed thoughtfully. The ordeal had been a fright, but it looked like no harm had been done. “You should tell Michelle what happened. She’ll want to know.”

It was hard for Taylor not to groan at the thought of causing even more worry, but she nodded her agreement. Ever since Vaanu left her, she’d been nothing but a burden.

“Actually, what _did_ happen? Tio said you were passed out on the beach-- I thought you were going up into the hills.”

“I did. And I was all pumped up to trek back down from the town--,” Catching a horrified look, Taylor couldn’t help but chuckle. “--cool your jets; you know I’m not _that_ stubborn. I realised pretty quickly that my ambitions were way too high. So, I got off the bus a little ways before our stop, and I walked it. I did it. I mean, it knocked the stuffing out of me, but I did it.”

“...And then, something possessed you to take a stroll along the beach?”

Taylor felt her cheeks flush. _Okay,_ this _was the part where I get a little foolish. “_ There was this little stray dog. Tiny thing, and it looked so sickly. Apparently, the bleeding heart in me jumped out, and then I was on a mission. I think the thought of actually _helping_ someone, and not just being this weak, lost little person just… just sparked something in me. Pretty sure the adrenaline just from that got me to the beach, because when I stopped moving, the fatigue hit me like a train.”

A little smile came to Estela’s face, and it made Taylor blush all the more.

“I know, I know, apparently I’ve got myself a hero complex. Maybe a little bit stupid, but my heart’s in the right place?”

Estela just laughed and held her wife even tighter. “How am I meant to argue with that? One pig-headed crusader to another; it’s not the worst thing you can be. I love you, Taylor.”

Taylor closed her eyes, breathing in the familiarity, the comfort, that came of having Estela so near. Her whole world, her everything. All that she had to give in return was so… small. Helpless and small.

“Hey…,” Estela said gently. “It _is_ going to be okay. I know you’re all right physically, but… you’re sad.”

“I thought I was getting better. I don’t want to be a damsel in distress for the rest of my life. It’s not as if I even know who I _am_ now, but that ain’t it.”

Estela tenderly kissed Taylor’s brow, her own furrowed with concern. “You _are_ getting better. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but from where you came from, this now is amazing. You’re stronger even than just last week. However long it takes, I’ll be there with you. You know, ready to give you a fireman-carry to safety.”

“I guess there’s gotta be some perks to being a damsel in distress. I can’t deny it; that _would_ be kinda hot.”

“Kinda?”

“A lot. A lot hot. I’m sorry, have you _seen_ your arms?”

To Taylor’s relief, the atmosphere had shifted; Estela waggled her eyebrows and giggled, eliciting a weak but grateful smile.

“You’ll be back to kicking ass in no time. If it helps, we can focus more on your physical training-- at least once you’ve recovered from this little, uh, episode. But, um, that little dog you found….”

“If we can find it, I really want to help. Maybe there’s the selfish aspect of me wanting to feel capable of being at least a little bit helpful to _someone,_ but I want to get it fixed up. It-- I _think_ it was a girl--looked pretty bad.”

“I always wanted to bring home strays when I was little; Tio Nicolas thought he had enough responsibility with a kid around the place, so that was never gonna happen. I’m sure he won’t mind another guest, _now_. Or at least, he wouldn’t say no. Do you want to get a dog, _mi amor?_ ”

“It hadn’t actually crossed my mind what we’d do with her once we brought her home and got her healthy, but… yeah. I think I’d like to have a dog.” Despite all her worries, all her fears, all her shame, Taylor couldn’t stop the small smile that lit her features. If she could somehow claw her way back to a semblance of her old self, what lay ahead looked _amazing._ “Look at us, ‘Stel; already growing our family.”

A giddy grin plastered across Estela’s face served to sweep Taylor back up into her own insecurities; those voiced and those yet hidden. This was supposed to be their happy ending; after everything her lover had been through, it was all Taylor wanted to make it happen. But now… was she even enough?

_This might be as good as it gets. Can you really expect her to be there to catch you when you just can’t stop falling?_

Estela stood up and stretched, but gave Taylor a look when she made to follow suit.“We’re not going anywhere until you’re properly rested. I’ll make you some lunch. But then, we’ll see if we can help out your little friend. What do you think?”

Taylor frowned.

_What do I think?_

_I think… I’m scared I’m going to hold you back, when you’re capable of so much._

_I’m scared your uncle’s only ever gonna see me as another burden for you to carry._

_I’m scared you’re gonna wake up one day and realise I’m not the same person you fell in love with._

She swallowed hard. There was so much love in Estela’s dark eyes, and it was shining there just for her.

_I won’t stop fighting to be what you deserve. We’re so close to happy ever after, and I won’t let you down now._

“I think I’ll be up to that. We’ve got saving the world under our belt; rescuing a stray dog is gonna be a cakewalk. Let’s do this.”


	2. Chapter 2

_“Estela-- no!”_

_Unblinking, Estela brought her knife to the side of her head, and plunged it behind the blinking mind-control device. She yelped and dropped the knife, but renewed her assault with her own fingers, tearing at her flesh until the cold metal device came loose, to be flung across the room. All the while, she was deaf to Taylor’s cries, dodging the frantic attempts at prising her fingers away from the now gaping wound._

_She slumped to the floor, her face pallid as blood continued to gush._

_“T-Taylor…”_

_“I’m here… I’m h-here, okay?” Desperately, Taylor tried to stem the bleeding with her hands, but as Estela’s cold fingers reached up to touch her face, scrunched in anguish, she knew it was already too late._

_“I-I d-didn’t… hurt… you?”_

_“No. No, baby, you could never.”_

_Estela’s choking exhale shook. “I’m… m-me. I would never h-hurt you… Tay….”_

_“Shh, shh…. I know. You’re here. My Estela. You saved me.” Tears cascaded down Taylor’s cheeks, mingling with blood._ Please, Estela…. No….

_Estela shuddered, her body a dead weight against her lover’s chest. “I g-get to go out as m-me. W-with you. T-taylor….”_

_“With me. I love you-- I love you-- I--”_

_“...Love…you….”_

_The last light behind Estela’s eyes dulled, and she was gone. Taylor unleashed a howl of agony…._

And she awoke.

Taylor’s heart felt as though it might pound right out of her chest. Her face was wet-- tears?-- sweat?-- both? She let out a quiet, dry sob. The tingle of blood on her hands could have been real. After so many of these nightmares, though, she knew how to ground herself. Against her back, she felt the gentle rising and fall of Estela’s chest. Against her ear, the soft, grumbling breaths of Estela deep in slumber. In the dim light of the bedroom, Taylor could make out the outline of the tiny dog that lay curled up at the end of the bed. All was peaceful.

Slowly, the thundering against Taylor’s ribs calmed. _It’s okay. You’re home. Estela’s with you; she’s safe. You’re safe._ Stress seemed to make these nightmares-- flashbacks of memories bestowed by the Endless-- rear their heads. Her throat was dry, as if she truly had screamed for the loss. Taylor carefully extricated herself from Estela’s arms, and stood on shaky feet. She’d disturbed her lover too many times; as much as she herself did, Estela needed to rest and recover.

Taylor padded out to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water.

“You’re not sleeping so well, _mija?_ ”

It was perhaps the third time Nicolas had called her that, and it still gave her a happy jolt. She stood up from her slumped stature over the sink and turned to see the tall silver-haired man perched upon his desk chair, apparently restless himself.

“And what are _you_ doing up so late?” she asked, the croak to her voice betraying the impact of that haunting vision. “An old man like you? You need your full eight hours.”

Nicolas chuckled. “The mouth on this one…. Well, being so _old,_ as you say, I find myself with a lot of accumulated thoughts to organise. Estelita told you I was thinking of writing a memoir? It happens that such an undertaking comes with the stirring of memories. Some… are disquieting. The thing with war is you might find yourself processing memories you’d once pushed aside for sheer survival. But it is nothing I don’t know how to deal with-- a way of life by now.”

Having tiptoed into the front sitting room, Taylor set herself down in a chair; there was little point to heading straight back to bed while her mind was a whirl of traumatic images. Quietly, she was grateful for the company, appreciating how comfortable she was in sharing with her wife’s cantankerous uncle, even for the bumps they’d had in the road.

“I’m surprised she let you slip away,” Nicolas growled-- not an unfriendly noise, but gruff. “After your fainting episode, she’s been on you like an extra limb.”

“I didn’t want to wake her. Estela has had too many bad nights because of me.”

Understanding, Nicolas gave an almost imperceptible nod. “You haven’t been sleeping well?”

Taylor opened her mouth, then closed it again. How to even explain her visions to someone who’d never stepped foot on La Huerta? “I have nightmares,” she said, after a moment of deliberation. “But like, really, _really_ vivid. And not like just a random dream, more like… like I’m living this version of a past with crystal clarity. What might have happened on the island… how it could have all gone wrong; as real as my own memories. I see all the hundreds of ways my friends might have died, how Estela….” She shuddered. “I’ve seen her die so many times. I’ve _felt_ her dying in my arms.”

“This is… all the time?” Nicolas was frowning, but didn’t appear alarmed. Apparently, life had made him pretty unflappable.

“Mmm… more when I’m emotionally stressed. Or at least, that’s what it feels like. And then it’s this really fun vicious circle; you try and not be an emotional wreck when you can’t close your eyes without seeing everyone you love die.”

Nicolas grunted, thoughtful. “It seems the last thing you need is to not be sleeping properly. Have you considered meditation before bed?”

“Yeah, actually. Estela suggested I try that. It helps me with getting to sleep, but I still have the dreams.”

When Nicolas spoke again, his voice was small. “I spent many months unable to shake scenarios my mind conjured… how that fool’s mission would have Estelita killed. It seemed inevitable for so long that I’d lost her, that she’d been wiped from the face of the earth without a trace. And here you have all those ‘what if’s’ collected in your mind. All the ways it could so easily have all come undone.”

“She always would have gone down fighting. I think… every single time. Whether she was going after Rourke, or saving her friends from some monster from the pits of hell… she would be this unyielding force of nature, so _sure_. To Estela, none of those eventualities ever happened-- she doesn’t have these memories, thank God--, but they’re real to me.”

For a little while, Nicolas was silent, lost in thought. He looked up at Taylor, a twitch of a smile upon his lips, and then his tired face was sombre once more. “I’ve learned a few things over the years of being the guardian of a wonderful, foolish child; one of those things is that to come down hard is to create fractures. And I have been hard on you-- harshness you do not deserve. I am very sorry.”

She swallowed hard. “I… I appreciate that. I’m sorry too. For blundering around like an idiot.”

“Yes, but you are _our_ idiot. My second niece.”

Taylor was certain her heart just skipped a beat. She covered her shock by laughing it off. “You’ll be having me call you ‘Tio’ next….”

“By all means. It is quite clear that Estelita intends to keep you; we may as well cut to the chase with familiarity, _mi Taylita._ ”

“Well, fine. If you say so, Tio.” In spite of her casual tone, Taylor couldn’t keep the smile from creeping to her face. _Acceptance_.

Nicolas took a long drink of rum.

“I’ll admit it seemed too good to be true; for Estelita to be happy. I always had this dream of seeing her, sharing a life with someone she loved, free from the shadows that have been there for as long as she knows. You’ll forgive me-- it is not that I didn’t wish to believe it, but my guard is there to keep her from being hurt more. Do you know when I knew that this-- _you--_ were real, not some cruel wishful thinking?”

“What was it?”

“It was, I think, four, maybe five , days after you came home. I didn’t hear what you said, but she was laughing. _Really_ laughing. As though her body could not possibly even try to contain her joy. It was the sort of unrestrained delight in living that I hadn’t seen in her eyes since she was a little child. It was magic. So, I wish for you to know that I will be forever grateful for that gift. For your care for her.”

Feeling like she might just about burst with happiness-- with love for her wife-- Taylor flushed. Whatever life would make of her next, she could be proud of the person she’d been for Estela. “It’s not just me, you know. The rest of us, our friends; they love Estela so, so much. I guess you see that with Jake, but it’s like we’re our own family. This thing we all went through together, it’s seared in us. Whatever happens next, even if I was to get struck down by lightning tomorrow, Estela is not gonna be alone ever again. Not really.”

“I’ve seen a good few impossible things these past weeks. I’d been certain that if she dared try to smile, her miserable old face would shatter! And now, here she is, light as a feather.” Nicolas looked down, his eyes misted over. “I have seen what you, your friends, have done. To say… to say I am _thankful_ feels small. Inadequate.”

Taylor shook her head. “Something like that doesn’t even need thanks. What we have is a privilege. It’s… all the family I thought I’d ever have-- until I came here.”

“Then, it seems my family has grown more than I know.”

* * *

Sprawled out in front of Taylor were a collection of notes, cutouts and photographs, atop a poster-sized paper. When the idea of a vision board was first put to her, she’d barely given it a thought, but it had become so damn hard to see anything past this period of physical rehabilitation that doing _something_ was a necessity. With a piece of toast in one hand, and the other offering quiet reassurance to her thin half-hairless canine companion, she pored over the visual summation of herself. As it happened, she didn’t appear to amount to much. In the middle of the board, she’d scrawled ‘Who Am I?’, and the wishy-washy answers she’d managed to surround it with did nothing to light the much-needed fire of self-confidence.

‘A people-person’, ‘nurturing’, ‘compassionate’. She scritched Fenix’s belly. ‘A strong leader’, ‘determined’, ‘resourceful’. There was no need for any kind of translation into the real world; all that had come with her. Those things, at least, were hers. But there was no history-- not any that she could ever talk about outside her own close circle.

“I can’t even put down any hobbies…,” she muttered.

Beside her, Estela peered over.

“I don’t think that’s true. You’ve been learning to knit; that’s definitely a ‘you’ thing. And we used to go hiking, swimming, wind-surfing….”

Taylor flinched, and it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Hey… I know it feels like your body’s giving out on you right now, but this won’t be forever.”

_I love you, but you don’t know that._

“Taylor, you can look at me like I’m crazy all you want, but… I know things are gonna get better.” Estela gently took Taylor’s hand in her own. “When you were in the med centre, those first few days… I couldn’t see a light at the end of the tunnel. You were gone, and there was no hope. But you came back to me. From nothing, you came back. I’m scared too, no matter how much I try and push it down. Even hard as things are it seems like it’s too good to be true. We can’t listen to those doubts, okay? I believe in a lot of things, but more than anything, I believe in you.”

“Well, at least someone does.” Taylor gave her wife’s hand a squeeze, and offered a grateful smile. “Considering what I clawed myself back from, this could be as good as it gets. But… I guess I’m not done fighting.”

Estela pecked a kiss to Taylor’s cheek, nuzzling close. “Good. I’m glad some of my stubborn streak has rubbed off on you.”

Taylor couldn’t help but chuckle. She was just about to go in for another kiss, when Nicolas marched into the kitchen for a drink of water.

“ _Buenos d_ _í_ _as_ , Tio!”

So… the smooch session was on hold. Resigned to being patient, Taylor reached for her glass of orange juice.

“Estelita, your poor _esposa_ tells me she is having nightmares!” Nicolas announced as he popped a couple of slices of bread into the toaster. “You need to be making sure she is nice and relaxed before she goes to sleep. A hot bath would not go amiss. And you should have plenty of sex. The oxytocin will do you both many favours.”

Taylor spluttered into her juice, slopping it down her front, while Estela promptly turned a glowing scarlet.

“ _Tio!_ ”

“Sex is good for you, _mija.”_

“ _Ohmygod_!”

Of course, Jake chose that moment to stroll into the room, a shout of laughter giving away what he’d overheard.

“Ya hear that, Katniss? Sex is good for ya.”

The look Estela gave him might have killed a lesser man stone dead on the spot.

“Eh, Lobito, I hope you are not expecting sympathy when she murders you.”

Taylor snorted. “And you will have no one but yourself to blame!”

“Enlighten me, E.T.; what’s all this you’re up to? Taking a break from being nurse to the world’s ugliest dog?”

“That’s _Princess_ E.T. to you,” she retorted, placing a hand over the sleeping animal by her side. “And she’s characterful. Pretty sure she’s a damn sight more attractive than you’d be if you were half starved and crawling with mange.”

“Ten out of ten would not let you in the front door,” Estela said dryly. She looked to Taylor and Fenix with an affectionate glance. Having someone to help out was good for her wife. A few days after the little dog came home and the fire in Taylor’s eyes was once more shining bright. When Estela had suggested the name for the dog, it had not just been an expression of hope for the miserable little creature.

“What I’m up to,” Taylor explained to Jake, “is something like a personal vision board. I’ve been really tripped up by not really knowing who I am in, you know, the real world. Quinn actually suggested this-- I use words and images to make a tangible impression of who this new Taylor is, what I want her to be. The more I think about it… the more I actually _see_ it in front of me… I find it really difficult to separate my sense of self from my friends.” _Like on my own, I'm nothing._

“Kinda makes sense considering what Vaanu made you for.”

“Yeah… it does. But they didn’t make me with this life in mind. It’s hard to see me _fitting._ ”

Estela grasped Taylor’s free hand, entwining their fingers. “Nope. You fit perfectly. See? It’s just a case of you finding your feet.”

Taylor exchanged a look with Jake. It wasn’t that simple. She’d been created for a purpose, and she’d fulfilled it. How would she even relate to people beyond that world? It would have to be built up slowly. Her friends had ensured she left La Huerta with a plausible life story to parrot, a medical history, even a collection of fabricated childhood anecdotes. Anything more that was a matter of time; she’d be built into a semblance of a real human being through her stumbling experiences.

“I’m serious, _cari_ _ń_ _a!_ You know it doesn’t help you to see yourself as something set apart. Vaanu created a human person-- not anything else. The human experience isn’t defined by just one thing.”

Jake shrugged. “Eh, that ain’t a bad point, if I’m honest. Not a soul outside anyone you’ve told is gonna think of you as anything but what you look like; and that’s the same slightly irritatin’ human woman that came barging into my cockpit. Ain’t as if anyone’d believe who you are if you even tried tellin’ ‘em.”

Taylor frowned. They couldn’t get it; not really. How was she supposed to see herself as anything other than an outsider when her very body seemed intent on telling her that she was incompatible with this life.

“Look, I know you guys are trying to help, but I really don’t want to talk about that. I want to focus on recovery… on who I am in the here and now.” Maybe to them that was one and the same, but to Taylor, there was a big difference. She didn’t want to hear reassurances of how human she was-- she wanted to just _be_ that human.

Jake put his hands up and backed away, but Estela simply held her wife’s gaze, thoughtful, then nodded.

“I guess I can’t really help you with what to put on this collage-thing-- what with the whole point being that it’s personal-- but I’ll dig out some old papers and magazines. And if you want any pictures printed….”

“Thanks,” Taylor said warmly, offering a squeeze of Estela’s fingers. Even in her gratitude for the subject being dropped, something had been stirred; was _she_ making an outsider of herself? Could it be that she was her own worst enemy? If she’d never uncovered the truth of her being, would she be so scared now? The Taylor who arrived on La Huerta did so with no hang-ups about how she’d fit with others; she just got on and did it. _That_ Taylor wouldn’t be drowning in this cursed self-doubt.

The little dog, Fenix, made for good company. There were no preconceived expectations to meet, and it was refreshing. Nursing the dog back to health had occupied most of Taylor’s past few days, and it had been a welcome point of focus. Fenix wasn’t in the best shape, and the thought of having a recuperation buddy actually did a lot to lift Taylor’s spirits. If nothing else, she was grateful that she at least didn’t have mange.

The sight of Fenix rolling contentedly onto her back made Taylor smile. It seemed she’d managed to put the sickly animal at ease. That ability to reach people-- and mangy little dogs, apparently-- was one part of herself she was sure of. To be building new relationships, with Nicolas and Fenix, gave her the confidence boost she’d sorely needed”.

“Okay, pupper. See if you can help me with this. I’ve got to do some kind of representation of my future. Whatever _the hell_ that looks like for someone like me.”

The basics were simple. She’d be by Estela’s side. They’d have a child together-- even before Taylor had decided to sacrifice the alien part of herself to restore the world, the two of them had discussed that. She would remain close to her friends, now family for all intents and purposes. More than that… did she really _need_ to have it all worked out?

_Maybe it would help._

In spite of herself, Taylor pouted. _It’s not as if I even know if I’ll physically recover. Maybe… small goalposts are gonna be more helpful._

She jotted down some notes; small goals…. ‘Go on hikes with Estela’-- they used to go on long walks all the time back on La Huerta. ‘Lean some Spanish’… if nothing else but to see the gobsmacked look on Nicolas’ face. ‘Survive first year of college without worrying too much about picking a direction’…. ‘feel in control of my own body’… ‘take more baths, have more massages-- basically, anything to get me to actually relax’. She tickled Fenix under the chin, and chuckled to herself as the dog groaned happily. “Get this little lady on her feet and living her best life.”

Progress, though, quickly ground to a halt. Self-reflection was tiring, and Taylor simply couldn’t handle tiring. With a hand to her forehead, she looked down upon the jumbled mess before her-- at least in that way it was a fairly accurate representation of the woman she was. It felt pointless. Quinn’s idea had been lovely in the abstract, but all this just hammered home that she was building something from scratch. Her eyes stung. It was crystal clear that she’d been fooling herself; a bit of positive thinking and visualisation wasn’t going to make a human being out of a glorified lump of stardust.

“Taylor, if this is only making you more stressed, you should take a break,” Estela said calmly from the doorway-- how long she’d been standing there, Taylor couldn’t be sure. “The whole idea is to help your recovery.”

Taylor hunched over, her eyes stinging. Torn between letting it all pour forth, taking comfort in her partner, and holding back and keeping up the crumbling facade of some easy happy ever after; she froze, all the while tears wove their tracks down her cheeks. Then, two strong arms took her from behind, carrying away the burden of choice. She sobbed.

_Why am I falling apart like this?_

After a long while of simply being held, caressed, kissed through her tears, Taylor found her voice.

“I thought I knew who I was. I guess… the fact that I don’t _physically_ feel like me right now… it… it makes all the other things stick out to me so much more. All the ways I don’t fit.”

Estela nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense. It… it must be hard.”

“‘Stel… are we insane to think I could just waltz into Hartfeld and just be another student? I never even went to school; people are gonna see right through me. I’m scared, ‘Stel. Of being some kind of broken half-person who can never be what you deserve.”

“ _Amor,_ no--”

Taylor shook her head. “I know how much you love me. You’d never say those things or even _think_ them… but I might not be the same woman you fell in love with. Back then, I was ‘Taylor, Hartfeld student kicking ass on crazy island’, not ‘Taylor, sad little alien that might not ever be close to keeping up with you ever again’.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate a good badass streak… but everything I fell in love with is still here. I’m looking at it right now, and falling in love all over again.”

“I’m not even human.”

Estela gave her wife a hard, penetrating look. No way would she let that go.

“ _Look at me._ Your favourite flowers are sunflowers. Your favourite food is ice cream-- strawberry. To you, a day when you haven’t given out, like, ten hugs, is a day wasted. If you could only watch one movie for the rest of your life, it would be _Princess Bride_ , which I find personally amusing, but _Back to the Future_ would be your close second choice. You’re more clued up about world issues than most of the people I shared a lecture theatre with in college, and you actually _care._ You might have just appeared on some magical tropical island a year ago, but you know all the words to songs I’ve never even heard of. You never needed a high school education-- it’s all there, innate to you. More than that… more than _anything,_ you’ve got more humanity in your little finger than most people have in their whole bodies. That person who came and sat with me on that first night on La Huerta… she wasn’t just a human being, she was a wonderful human being. You are and always will be.” Estela brushed Taylor’s hair out her eyes, seeking her gaze. When she found it, those sapphire eyes were welling. “I just… you’ve gotta know that. I know it’s hard-- God, I just want to make it easier for you… for you to see it. And we’re gonna keep building your strength up. It’s okay that this is getting you down-- that’s only natural--, but I won’t let you stay down. It’s your corner I’m fighting in now.”

“Thank you. For always knowing what to say… and for making me feel so, so loved.”

“It’s only because you are.”

“I love you too.”

“We’re getting through this, okay? We need a solid plan. All these things we’re doing that help… but there’s no routine, no targets-- you can’t see how far you’ve come.”

“So… you’re gonna be my personal trainer? Just like old times.”

“Well, kind of. We don’t have the threat of you dropping dead to worry about, so it’s definitely gonna be more pleasant than preparing you to return Vaanu’s essence. And I’ll be taking things a lot gentler.”

“Oh, thank god.”

Estela couldn’t hold back a giggle. And the sound of it, the airiness… and the sight of that once-so serious face scrunched up in mirth, it tickled Taylor until she was laughing herself.

“I mean it though. I love you, so damn much.” Catching her breath back, Taylor looked down beside the table, where Fenix was now fast asleep. Peaceful. There was something kind of satisfying about seeing that. A little sign that Taylor might just still be capable of doing something worthwhile. She needed more of that feeling. Much more.

She brought a finger to Estela’s chin, and let her eyes speak her desire.

“Hey… the dog’s sleeping, no one’s home…. I could really use some nice feelings right now, if you wanted to take this to the bedroom.”

Concern furrowed Estela’s brow, and it made Taylor laugh all over again.

“I wouldn’t be suggesting it if I was to tired. We can just take it slow.” _As usual._ She was pretty sure there was a joke to be had there about a worst case scenario in which at least she’d die happy, but she kept it to herself. Too soon. Besides, it wasn’t important. Something else was on Taylor’s mind.

The smile slowly returned to Estela’s face. “I won’t say I’m not tempted,” she said quietly. “Okay, _fine,_ I’d love that.”

As Estela settled on the bed, Taylor carefully pulled the door closed, not wanting to wake Fenix from much-needed rest. She looked at her wife, waiting there for her, all tenderness and affection, and felt a rush of warmth. There could never be any discomfort in expressing what she needed, not here. Estela was her safe place.

“I… actually wanted to try something different,” she said, slowly moving toward the bed. When Estela’s quirked eyebrow gave away her interest, Taylor continued, pink spots blossoming upon her cheeks. “You know how I’ve been feeling like I’ve got no control… like I’m just along for the ride in my own body…? Well, I want, I guess, the opposite.”

Estela nodded solemnly, but a matching blush rose up on her face. “ _Oh,_ you want to be in charge. Are you thinking a… um… bondage… kind of… thing?”

Ignoring the raging heat that had flushed her skin, Taylor responded enthusiastically. “Yeah. Something like that. If you’re open to giving it a try?”

Having shrugged off a pesky layer or two of clothes, Estela settled into the pillows and offered her wrists. She watched with smoldering eyes as Taylor rummaged through her La Huerta luggage until she came across a scarf. 

With gentle hands, taking time to caress along Estela’s sensitive inner arms, Taylor carefully secured a knot, then slipped out of her clothes-- all the while, butterflies danced in her stomach. The kind of trust involved here was… a lot. Complete vulnerability should have been against everything life had hammered into Estela, and yet she looked comfortable. Okay-- _more_ than comfortable.

“You’re sure this is okay? Just-- I’ll stop the second you--”

“ _Taylor._ I know. I wanna try this. So, now you’re in charge.” Estela settled back into the mattress, her glittering eyes poring over her wife’s scantily clad figure. _Have me._

One hand remaining firm on Estela’s tied wrists, Taylor let the other trail downwards, dancing a slow dance across supple shoulders criss-crossed with faded scars.

“Close your eyes.”

Estela did so, though not before meeting Taylor’s gaze with a smirk clearly intended to make her lover go to pieces.

“ _Oh, god,”_ Taylor hissed out as the warm throb between her legs heightened. She took a moment to catch her breath. This was another area in which her confidence had taken a knock, but she was safe and loved, and knew she could take all the time she needed. She leaned close, and began to touch, to feel, responding to the soft whines and moans of pleasure that followed in her wake.

Some time later, after a few stops and starts, for rest breaks were something Taylor now simply had to accept, the two lovers lay entwined in one another’s arms.

“That… was nice.”

Taylor collapsed into breathless giggles. “’Nice’? _That’s_ the review I get?”

“I’m sorry, it’s not my fault I can’t throw a sentence together right now. Most of the things I’m feeling are kind of… too big for words.”

“Yeah? Well, I guess I can take the compliment.”

“You should. I am so _lucky.”_

“Not nearly as lucky as me.” Taylor sighed contentedly, snuggling against Estela’s shoulder and appreciating the joyful hum that rumbled from her throat. “It just felt so _good,_ to feel like I’m actually in control of something, to not be helpless. So, thanks for giving me that.”

Estela flushed. “When I say it’s my pleasure, you don’t know the half of it.”

Giddy, Taylor couldn’t hold back the laughter. For the first time in a long time, her body felt simply light, no longer an anchor dragging her down. As Estela gave into giggles herself, the tickling bounce of her stomach only served to chase out one laugh after another, until Taylor found herself spent.

“I love you…” she gasped. Her body ached all over, but it was the happiest kind of exhaustion, without a trace of the frustration that had plagued her. She’d stopped fighting it, and as it turned out, her body was still hers.

“I love you too, _mi vida._ With every beat of my heart.”

Taylor gazed adoringly into Estela’s dark eyes and knew home. _How is it even possible for someone so tough and prickly to be utterly soft?_ Of course, she knew, the hard outer shell was itself a force of love. _As long as you’ve got her, you’re indomitable._

“I guess we’ll see if Tio’s right about the oxytocin helping with the nightmares.”

Estela snorted. “ _Joder--_ I’d never hear the end of it. Whatever works, I guess… but I still think we should keep up the meditation before bed tonight.”

“A bit of clearing out the old noggin never hurt anyone.” Taylor grinned, and pecked a kiss to her lover’s cheek. “It’s like… the more I’ve been scared, the more tired I get, just from the _worrying._ Well, I’m done. The new Taylor might be a little frustrated with her limitations, but she’s done being scared by them.”

Pulling Taylor ever closer, Estela kissed her deeply, then pressed her forehead gently to hers.

“This is how you’re gonna get better,” she said. “By ramping up the self-care. If it’s knitting a jumper for our sad, naked dog, or taking two or three baths a day, or curling up with me in a hammock and watching the world go by. I think… in this instance, fighting looks like… like letting go. Like enjoying the quiet moments, and letting your body rest and heal.”

Taylor nestled into the blanket, and slid down so that her face was tucked against the sensitive crook of Estela’s neck. _I’ve been such an idiot._

“I’d over-think myself to death if I could,”she sighed. “And I’d miss all of this in the process. You.” Her lips tickled a teasing trail of kisses down to her love’s collarbone. Maybe she’d been so focused on the _impossibility_ of her being her, alive and with a life by Estela’s side, that she’d been fighting it. Fighting herself. Sabotaging her own happiness, her own body, with fear. Maybe she didn’t need to fear letting Estela down.

The ‘new’ Taylor, was, after all, just the old Taylor. And she was enough.


End file.
